Chapter Four #2
My face burns. I hesitate, then his tongue flicks my clit, just once, and I jolt. “Please,” I gasp. “Please, River, can I come? Please let me come.”
“Good girl.” The praise melts something in my chest. “Yes. You can come. Come on my tongue, wife. Now.”
He seals his mouth over me and sucks hard, and I shatter. The orgasm crashes through me in waves, my hips bucking against his face, his name tearing out of my throat. He doesn’t stop; he keeps licking me through it, drawing it out until I’m trembling, oversensitive and pushing at his shoulders.
“Too much,” I pant. “It’s too much.”
He finally pulls back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, looking up at me with dark, satisfied eyes. “You taste like honey and sin, Nadia. I could eat you for hours.”
He rises over me, mouth shiny, eyes blown. My gaze trails down to find his cock straining against his boxers. He leans down, taking my lips, and I taste myself on his tongue, and something feral in me leans into it.
“River.” My hands fist into his waistband. “Don’t stop.”
He catches my wrist. “That’s enough for now.” His voice is strained, and he’s already pulling back. “I told you I wouldn’t touch you unless you asked. You’ve had a hell of a week. You must be tired.”
I don’t let go of his waistband.
He goes completely still above me.
“Never any of it.” My face is burning, and I make myself say it anyway.
“My father had someone watching me from the time I was twelve. There was never a boy, never a date, never five minutes alone with anyone. And after I ran, I couldn’t afford to let a single person close enough to know my real name.
” I swallow. “The first time anyone has ever touched me was three days ago, on your desk, and I’ve not thought about much else since. ”
Something moves across his face that I’ve never seen there before. His hand comes up to my jaw, so careful it makes my eyes sting.
“I know,” he says quietly. “I’ve known for a year. I just didn’t let myself know why I was keeping track.”
“I’m telling you because I want you to know it’s you.” My voice shakes. “Not because I want you to stop. I want you inside me.”
He searches my face. “You sure? Because once I’m inside you, I’m not going to be able to stop. You understand that?”
“I’m sure.” I touch his cheek, the gold band flashing in the low light. “This is the only wedding night I’ll ever have. I want to pretend it’s real. Just for tonight. Please, River.”
He stares at me for a long moment, something shifting in his expression. Then he stands, stripping off his shorts, and I get my first real look at him. He’s thick and heavy, curving up toward his stomach, and my mouth goes dry with want.
“If we do this,” he says, his voice low and dangerous, “you don’t get to pretend. You understand? This is real. What I feel for you is real. And once I’m inside you, Nadia, I’m not going to want to let you go.”
My heart hammers against my ribs. “Then don’t let me go.”
He groans and pushes me back onto the bed, following me down, his big body covering mine. He kisses me, deep and filthy, and I can still taste myself on his tongue, musky and intimate, his beard teasing my nerve endings. His cock presses against my hip, hot and insistent.
“You want me to fuck you,” he growls against my mouth. “Want my cock inside you? Want me to make you mine?”
I mewl at his words, my hips bucking as pleasure racks me.
“Christ.” He reaches between us, positioning himself at my entrance. “You’re so wet. So ready for me.”
“Please, River. P-please…”
He pushes in, slow and steady, and I gasp at the stretch of it, a bright sting that flares and then eases as my body gives around him. He’s bigger than I expected. For a moment, I can’t breathe, can’t think, can only feel the overwhelming sensation of him inside me.
“Okay?” He stills, forehead pressed to mine, every muscle in his body tense with restraint.
“Yes. Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”
He pulls back and thrusts in deeper, and I cry out, nails digging into his shoulders. He finds a rhythm, slow at first, then faster as my body adjusts, as I start to meet him thrust for thrust.
“So tight,” he groans. “So fucking perfect. You feel that? Feel how you fit me?”
“Yes.” I’m panting, writhing beneath him. “Yes, River. Yes.”
He hooks my knee over his arm, opening me wider, and drives in deeper. The new angle hits something inside me, something that makes white sparks explode behind my eyes.
“Oh!” The sound tears out of me.
“There?” He does it again, grinning when I moan. “That’s your spot, isn’t it? I’m going to find it every time, Nadia. Every single time I fuck you, I’m going to make sure you feel it.”
“Oh God…”
“Not God.” He leans down and bites my earlobe. “Who am I?”
“R-river,” I whimper.
“Wrong answer.” He slows his thrusts, torturous and shallow, until I’m whining and bucking my hips. “Try again.”
I know what he wants. The word sits on my tongue, foreign and forbidden and somehow exactly right. “Daddy,” I breathe.
He freezes. His hazel eyes go black with lust. “Again.”
“Daddy,” I cry out, louder this time. “Please, Daddy, don’t stop. I need you.”
“Fuck.” He slams his hips against me, hard and deep, and I scream. “That’s it. That’s my good girl. Say it again.”
“Daddy!” I’m lost in it now, the word pouring out of me with every thrust. “Daddy, please, I want m-more…”
He gives it to me, pounding into me with abandon, the bedframe rattling against the wall. The sound of our bodies meeting, wet and obscene, fills the room.
“You like that?” he growls. “Like when your daddy takes care of you? Makes you feel good?”
“Yes, yes, I love it…”
He reaches between us, finds my clit with his thumb, and rubs it in tight circles. “Come for me, angel. Come on Daddy’s cock. Let me feel it.”
The orgasm hits me like a freight train, sudden and devastating.
I clench around him tightly, and he groans my name.
Everything is white noise, pleasure, and River.
He thrusts twice more before stilling, and then he’s coming too, pulsing inside me, his forehead dropping to my shoulder as he shudders through his release.
For a long moment, we breathe. The room smells like sex and sweat and us.
River lifts his head, kisses me softly and sweetly, completely at odds with the filthy things he was just saying. “Stay right here.”
He pulls out carefully and goes to the bathroom. I’m tender, sensitive, aware of every inch of my body. I hear water running, and then he’s back with a warm washcloth, cleaning me with gentle thoroughness that makes my chest ache.
When he’s done, he tosses the cloth aside and climbs back into bed, pulling me against his chest. I settle into the curve of his body, my back to his front, his arm heavy around my waist.
“Thank you for making me your first,” he whispers into my neck.
My heart squeezes around something it has no business feeling, not for a marriage with an expiration date on it. I close my eyes and let myself pretend, just for tonight, that this could last.